Star Trek: Battle on the Grid
by Draco9805
Summary: When an accident occurs on Enterprise, Riker is taken onto the Grid, a world unlike any other. Will he make it back? And will Tron see him as a friend? Please review!    Disclaimer: None of these characters are owned by me.
1. An Unfinished Game

Star Trek: War on the Grid

1. An Unfinished Game

"_The Grid – a digital frontier. I tried to picture clusters of information as they moved through the computer. What did they look like? Ships? Motorcycles? Were the circuits like freeways? I kept dreaming of a world I thought I'd never see. And then, one day, I got in…"_

Tron leaned into his lightcycle as the game grid came online. He could still remember a day when the lightcycles were created with much simpler programming, and had a closed cockpit. These cycles, however, were open, allowing for disc combat in addition to the classic light ribbon combat.

Looking intently across the grid, he attempted to examine the other programs that he was to go against. Since the User Flynn had recreated the Grid and brought him here, the only programs that he fought on the grid were usually criminals and corrupted programs without their original identity discs. He had a challenge… there were three programs that he had to combat alone. One of them seemed to have been a corrupted program that had had any dangerous codes removed by the antivirus programs prior to his transfer to the games. The other two seemed to be typical programs, but one seemed uncomfortable… seemed unique in this environment, as if he weren't working according to his programming. Tron had seen this kind of behavior before, but he couldn't concentrate on it.

The crowd cheered as the other programs rezzed their lightcycles and began riding toward him. He began moving forward, charging toward them in his own lightcycle at high speed, his blue light ribbon trailing behind him. In his hands, the handles of the cycle vibrated as the forward wheel guided the bike with increasing speed toward his opponents.

Two of the programs seemed to move off on their own, their coding telling them that they must work alone in order to avoid deresolution. The third, however, took an erratic course, moving away from the other two programs almost immediately and moving around the outer perimeter of the game grid. Choosing to take that one on as a challenge, Tron focused in on the two normal programs, quickly derezzing them before moving on to the other opponent, which had finally discovered the lower levels of the grid and was traveling below the security program.

Tron reached over his shoulder and detached his identity disc, savoring the familiar vibration as it began to heat up and spin in his hand. The other program seemed to be more of a hand-to-hand fighter, so he quickly caught up to it and took a swing at the back wheel of the bike.

Instantly, the program lost control of his vehicle, and he jumped off of it before it swerved and scattered its pixilated remains across the ground.

"Greetings, program," Tron intoned as he got off his own cycle and split his disc in two.

"Program? I think you're mistaken." The opponent wielded his own disc as he backed away from Tron.

"Mistaken?" The security program was taken aback. How could this program not know what he was? He hadn't activated its disc, and wielded the object awkwardly, as if he had never been on the game grid before.

"Where the hell am I?"

"By the Users…" Tron said, astonished. The crowd had fallen silent, watching as the two faced each other. "You can't be a User?"

"What is a User?" The program asked. "My name is William Riker, of the starship _Enterprise_."

Tron retracted his helmet and deactivated his discs, replacing them on his back. "My name is Tron. I can't believe it… only Flynn has been on the Grid before… is he here?"

"I'm unfamiliar with Flynn. Where the hell are we?"

Tron led Riker off of the game grid, trying to hide his shock. "We're somewhere you shouldn't be."


	2. The Digital Frontier

2. The Digital Frontier

"Kevin Flynn has told me many stories about your world. It intrigues me."

"Believe me, the feeling is mutual. I had never imagined something like this in a computer."

"Flynn created the Grid. I was programmed by a different user on another system."

"That doesn't negate the beauty of it," Riker replied as the two walked through the streets of the city. As usual, the clouds hung low, and lightning struck the ground in various places. Everything gave off its own light, and it was this light that they walked through.

"If Flynn didn't let you in, then how did you come here?"

"I'm not sure of even that. One moment, I was on the ship; the next moment, I wasn't. However, we had discovered an ancient laser system and a microchip from Earth. Whether or not that has anything to do with it I don't know yet."

"You are lucky that you had me as an opponent on the game grid. Any other program would not have shown you any mercy. They hadn't met a user before." Tron looked over the user, intrigued by the unique circuitry. It had the circles and conduits that most other programs possessed, but unlike most circuits, there was a small emblem on Riker's chest that he'd never seen before. "I believe I might know where we can find you some help." He gestured toward a nearby building, and watched, amused, as confusion laced Riker's features.

"It's an I/O tower, and the only place where we can talk with the users, other than when a user comes here."

"I see," Riker said as he gazed at the beam of light that shot into the sky above the tower.

Riker struggled to his feet, staring fixedly on the concrete below him. _Concrete?_ The floors on _Enterprise_ were carpeted. The seasoned officer let his mind replay the events leading up to this point, or at least what he could remember…

_Data lifted the chip to eye level, his childlike face giving only the slightest hint of curiosity. "It appears to be an old microchip from Earth, manufactured in the early twenty-first century."_

"_Yes, Mr. Data, but can you determine what information is stored in it?" came the smooth reply from the Captain. After so many years of working with the crew, Picard's patience seemed to be so deep as to be unfathomable to Riker._

"_Yes. I believe so, Captain. If Mr. LaForge could help me."_

"_Make it so."_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Captain," Riker said as Picard moved back toward his chair at the center of the bridge. "How will we know if this artifact is safe? It may be from Earth, but the time period was rather violent. There's no knowing if a virus had been downloaded into that chip."_

"_I'm grateful for your observation, Number One, but I think that if this chip were a threat, it would not have been hidden in the basement of an ancient arcade."_

"_Noted, sir." Riker looked across the bridge at the Betazoid sitting gracefully in her seat. Her eyes seemed to emanate Picard's confidence, and the first officer relaxed a bit before settling in his seat._

A deep rumble pulled him out of his nostalgia, and he looked up to find a large ship of some sort hovering over him. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. It was massive, and an orange light emanated from lines that were etched across its angular contours.

_My god…_

The ship brought itself overhead and sent a beam of light down upon him as it landed. He stayed in place, trying to make himself seem like the weakling he was against the machine. As the main section brought itself down the two arms that it had landed on, he could see a few people inside. They wore an unusual form of clothing that emanated their own light, and the two that approached him sported helmets that hid their faces.

One grabbed his arm while the other looked at his back. "No identity disc. He must be another rogue program."

Feigning innocence, Riker allowed the two officials to lead him to an empty spot in the line of passengers, where his feet were bound by unknown technology. _An abduction?_ Riker thought as he looked around. All of the people surrounding him seemed to be human, but he knew that looks had little to do with reality.

The two officers had gone into separate alcoves, and Riker leaned against the transparent wall as the ship began to move with surprising speed toward the main hub of the city. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Everything emitted its own light, and the building that the ship had led him to was no exception. _What powers all this?_ Riker thought as the ship landed and three officers boarded and began inspecting the passengers.

"Games," the officer said tersely after looking over Riker.

"Games?" Riker asked hesitantly, only to be led to a section of the floor that moved downward, as if falling, into another room.


	3. Games

**Games**

"_Well, Commander, there's nothing dangerous about this chip, if that's what you're asking. It contains hundreds of programs, but I don't know what they're supposed to be." _

_Riker looked at Geordi and waited. _

"_Every program seems to contain some sort of reference to an ancient laser system. Non-violent, but it seems to have been one of the first attempts at creating a transporter. But they were missing one important piece of the puzzle: where were you supposed to rematerialize?" _

"_Perhaps they weren't looking into transporter technology just yet. You remember Montgomery Scott? He survived more than a hundred years by saving his pattern in a transporter's buffer. Perhaps that was what they were aiming for in this." _

"_It's possible, but the data here is not detailed enough for that." _

"_See if you can reconstruct this laser. The Captain's going to want to see it." _

"_My thoughts exactly."_

The dimly lit room suddenly brightened as four women in skin-tight, glowing outfits approached him silently.

"Can you tell me what's going on here?" He asked of them as they began shredding his uniform. As his uniform was replaced by a close-fitting black outfit, he stood in silence.

_Attention, program. You will be issued an identity disc. Everything you say, do, or learn will be imprinted on this disc. If you attempt to destroy or lose the disc, or if you disobey a command, you will be subject to immediate deresolution._

The women all returned to their alcoves, and one stood expectantly outside hers. Looking her in the eye, Riker asked, "What the hell's going on here?"

"Survival," she said before stepping into her alcove.

Riker was blinded by a white light that spilled into the room as a doorway opened and is feet were surrendered by the technology he was standing on. What the hell?

When his eyes had adjusted to the light, he found himself on a small, enclosed moving platform hovering within an arena.

_What is this?_ Riker asked of himself as a crowd cheered and the platform came to a rest on the floor of the arena. _Lightcycle grid activated. Round one. Begin._

A stick-like object rose upward from the ground and hovered at arms-length away from him, and he stared at it, confused. Next to him were two others, both of which grabbed the object and ran forward, jumping as they split it in two._ Motorcycles?_

Not knowing what else to do, Riker followed suit. As the object split, he watched as a wire-frame version of the motorcycle materialized and fleshed itself out into a vehicle. _Incredible..._ Deciding to veer to the left, he traveled along the arena wall, trying to stay out of the way as a ribbon of light streamed out from his hind wheel.

The bike traveled at high speed, and Riker had to take a moment to figure out how it was supposed to function. When he'd managed to teach himself the basics, he watched as a single opponent used its bike to destroy the others. Just my luck, he thought as he kept himself steady. _A gladiatorial society..._

Suddenly, his stomach lurched as it went down a ramp and swerved a bit. As he tried to regain control, the opponent crossed his path and he found himself flying through the air amid pieces of debris. He came to a stop and tried to bring himself to his feet, coughing in an attempt to get air into his lungs. His opponent had disabled its bike and was standing over him with a glowing identity disc...


	4. User

**User**

The I/O tower that Tron had led Riker to was massive, and the beam of light that it sent into the seemingly eternal sky glowed like a beacon in the dark. As the commander beheld it, he was taken with awe of how such a building could be created with such unusual architecture without collapsing upon itself. Like the _Enterprise_, its contours seemed to curve outward as his eyes traced its glowing edges, but unlike the ship, there was gravity present where it stood. It defied the very laws of physics. _But then,_ Riker thought as he came to this realization, _light generally doesn't create solid walls, either._

Tron gestured toward the human's identity disc, motioning for Riker to take it off and carry it by hand. "You're going to need it. Something's telling me that if you were put in here by accident, then you may have friends waiting on the outside."

Riker nodded, still unsure of what the "program" meant. He detached his disc and followed Tron into the tower, where in the center of a large amphitheater there waited another man, who seemed to be a sort of religious figure with an elegant headdress and sculpted outfit. Tron was the first to address the strange man.

"Greetings, Dumont. I've brought a friend who I think you'd be a little interested in."

The program looked up at the two who walked in and smiled. "Hello, Tron! It has been many cycles since I have seen you."

"This isn't the old system, my friend. Alan_1 doesn't communicate with me. Flynn does, and in person."

"If it weren't for _him,_ Flynn may still be here, Tron."

"I know," Tron said, urgently, "but I believe Riker here may be able to help."

Dumont turned his attention to Riker. "Who are you, program?"

"I'm not a program," Riker said, trying not to sound rude. He was beginning to question his purpose in saying that he wasn't a program. _Perhaps the universal translator is interpreting their word for friend as being the word for "program" in Federation Standard._

"If what you are saying is true, then you are a user..."

Riker stared at Dumont, dumbfounded. The words "user" and "program" kept reappearing, and he wasn't sure how to respond. "Can either of you explain to me what a user is?"

Tron's brow raised a bit, and he nodded. "Dumont, do you have any area where Riker and I can talk. Somewhere... out of the way?"

Dumont nodded and pointed toward a nearby door. "Just keep your voices low. I'll watch for _him._ No doubt he's already on Riker's trail."

Tron dipped his head toward the older man and angled Riker toward the door, gently pushing him along with urgency. "You're clearly not supposed to be here, Riker. We need to talk." The door closed swiftly behind them, and Tron seemed to relax a little.

"Riker, you are a user, are you not? You are a man who can write programs for computers?"

Riker shrugged. "I've created some programs, but mostly for the holodeck. Why?"

A questioning look passed before Tron's angular face, but it passed and he looked the commander in the eye. "You're not in your world anymore. You're on the Grid. A computer system."

Riker smiled, disbelieving. "You mean to tell me that somehow I was transferred into the computer chip that we found floating in space?"

"Exactly. You are a user, but I am a program. More specifically, you are human, and I am a security program written to protect this system. How did you get a hold of this grid?"

The smile had vanished from Riker's face. "Do you really think that I'm going to believe a nonsense story like this? I need to get back to my ship, so if you'd kindly show me the way back, maybe I won't be quite as irritated."

Tron shook his head. "I'm sorry, Riker, but I don't know even the beginnings of what it takes to get you back into your world. I've only ever known this system, and another, older system." He walked toward the door. "I have an idea that may make it so that you can communicate with your people, but other than that, I don't know how to help you."

The commander followed the security program through the door and toward Dumont, who looked Riker in the eye. "I have known Tron for a very long time, Riker. You can trust me." The old program extended his hand. "If you hand me your disc, I can show you what you need to do with it in order to communicate with the world of the users."

Despite the instinctual fight within him that told him that he shouldn't let his disc leave his possession, he detached the disc from his back and handed it over to Dumont, who held it gingerly between his fingers. "What do I do?" Riker asked tersely.

"You stand there in your pathetic human way and don't fight."

Dumont hadn't moved, and neither had Tron. Instead, they stayed unnaturally still. Standing straight and preparing to keep intense irritation in check, he turned and faced the very man he didn't want to see in this world. That is, if he could be categorized as a man.

"Surprised to see me, Riker? I've taken much joy out of getting you here."

"Q..."

"Look at that!" Q said, mockingly. "He's so happy to see me that he can only utter my name!"

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Well, I think it's quite simple here, Comrade. You've gotten yourself into a nasty situation and can't get out of it. Just like you primitive life forms have a tendency of doing." The alien's mocking tone hadn't left. Unlike his usual Starfleet attire, he was wearing a replica of Riker's own outfit, but instead of blue lighting, it glowed with a green color. "I suppose I should tell you more, but this has been quite entertaining. I mean, the way you squirm when you're in an unfamiliar environment. You humans always have different reactions. If _Mi Capitan_ were here, I'm sure he would have worked out a diplomatic solution of some sort."

"Stop playing games with me, Q. What is it this time?"

"Oh, nothing much commander. I was just getting tired of playing billiards with the planets. Instead, I brought a game to you."

"Hardly a game, Q. What have you done to the _Enterprise_?"

"Absolutely nothing. You're exactly where this friendly program told you. You're on the Grid. You're in a computer chip that I happened to supply."

Riker could only barely keep his anger contained. "Get me out of here, Q."

Q chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, my friend, but you're stuck here. Oh, and just wait! I won't be the only person you know on the Grid."

"Follow me." Dumont's voice chimed almost instantly after Q vanished in his typical flash of light.


	5. First Contact

**First Contact**

Riker followed Dumont into the bowels of the I/O tower with Tron close behind. The place was spectacular, but it still worried him that Q was involved. He had the feeling that the programs in front of and behind him were not aware of Q's existence, and therefore the only other forms of life they were familiar with were the "Users." The only other forms of life they were familiar with were humans.

_But how?_ Riker asked himself silently as the old program led him deeper into the tower to a platform where the beam of light he'd seen emitting from the outside of the tower had originated. _There are no records of a first contact with digital life._

Dumont turned and handed Riker the identity disc. "I would normally recite the rights to communication with the users to you, but you _are _a User, so I think it would suffice for me to simply tell you good luck."

The commander graciously accepted the disc and strode forward toward the platform. He was fascinated by the technology that surrounded him, but still was confused with the situation. There were hints of oppression coming from both Tron and Dumont, but the only clue he had been given was Q himself. And what did that omnipotent trickster mean by not being the only person Riker knew on the Grid?

These questions constantly burned in Riker's mind, but he forced them aside as a strange impulse caused him to plant himself in the middle of the platform and raise his identity disc above his head. Suddenly, the disc came alive, rising above him and into the base of the beam, and it seemed as if time itself had stopped once again.

A small light on Geordi's terminal blinked, signaling a transmission. Pressing the button to establish communication, he responded. "Geordi here. What's the matter, Captain?"

_It's not the captain, Geordi. It's me. Riker._

Next to him, Geordi could see a small flicker of movement in the infrared that he'd learned to recognize as Data. The android had raised an eyebrow. "How is this possible? Riker, where are you?"

_I was just about to ask you the same thing. Can you get Captain Picard and the others? I think this warrants all of your attention... _

"Sure, no problem." He tapped his comm badge. "Engineering to the bridge. Captain Picard, Counselor Troi, and Lieutenant Worf, can you come and meet us? We have something you need to see."

Jean-Luc Picard stood in the turbolift with a Klingon and a Betazoid, wondering what could possibly have aroused such a puzzled tone from his chief engineer. In all his years as captain, he had never heard such a tone from any of his crew. When the turbolift opened onto engineering, he found Geordi and Data standing next to one of the terminals against the wall that separated the room from the warp core. In the pulsing violet light, he could see a puzzled look on Data's childlike face, and a similar - if more emotional - look on the human sitting next to him. Even the VISOR couldn't hide such questioning emotions.

"Well, what is it?" he asked as politely as he could muster. For the life of him, he could see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, it would be the chief engineer who knew the ship's engines more than any other aboard the vessel.

_Captain? Is that you?_ Riker's voice emanated from some speakers.

"Yes, Number One. And dare I ask where you've been?"

_That's just the thing, Captain. A close friend of ours decided to make another visit. He has yet another game up his sleeve._

"Q!"

_Bingo. He has me trapped in a world that everyone here is calling the Grid. Supposedly, it's some sort of digital world inside the microchip that we found._

Instantly, Data's fingers began to fly across the panels with the speed of an android, and within moments, he nodded. "It would seem that Commander Riker is correct. In the process of creating the ancient transporter device, his pattern was transferred to the microchip. Unfortunately, I am not capable of reversing the process. There seems to be a timed response. The best we can hope for is to wait."

_Captain, something else Q said is bothering me. He said that he wasn't the only familiar face on the Grid._

Once again, Data was running diagnostics. "The microchip has been synchronized with the _Enterprise _computers, Captain."

Picard nodded and leaned toward the terminal. "Number One, I want you to learn as much about this world as you can. It seems that Q has created some sort of game that we need to learn the rules to."

He then turned to Data. "Is there any way that you can monitor his progress or even enter the data in that chip so that you can see what he sees?"

Data's eyes flickered out of focus for the smallest fraction of a second. "Commander Riker's pattern has been stored as a program on the chip. My programming may be able to be transferred into the chip to meet with him."

"Make it so. Commander LaForge, I want you to monitor both of their progress remotely if you can. Counselor, are you able to sense anything from that chip?"

"No, sir. I can't even sense Commander Riker's presence on this ship."

"I suppose we must make do with what we know."

The disc came back down and eased gently into Riker's hands. Tron was waiting just outside the platform.

"Tron, where would someone arrive if they were to be entering the Grid from the world of the Users?"

"The only place I can think of is under _his_ control... he'd stop anyone from getting past the Games if he could."

"Who is 'he'?"

"The only program that has ever succeeded in gaining control of the Grid in less than half a cycle. He calls himself Moriarty."


	6. Fate of the ISO

**Fate of the ISO's**

Riker stared at Tron in disbelief. The Captain, with the help of Data and Reginald Barclay had managed to take the holodeck program out of the ship's main systems. Had Moriarty been thorough enough in his planning to have created a copy of himself in the _Enterprise_ computers?

"We didn't know that he had even arrived on the Grid," Tron continued. "The world that Kevin and Sam Flynn had left behind had begun to become peaceful again. Sam had returned several times to make sure that everything on the Grid was running smoothly, and that all systems were repairing. Then, he simply never arrived again. Then, Moriarty appeared.

"Sam had left me in control of the Grid, despite my having been rectified by a malfunctioning program called CLU. Eventually, the world that Kevin, Sam, and I had been working so hard to create began to take shape. I had been testing the repaired Game Grid when Moriarty simply rezzed into existence on the light disc arena.

"His ability to learn what should be done was terrifying, and I raced to face him on the disc arena, where he had already managed to derezz several other opponents. He had taken all of their discs, and he used all of those weapons against me. I couldn't fight so many being thrown at once from the same direction and the same opponent. Soon, I had to find a way to deactivate the arena.

"I derezzed a portion of the arena floor and jumped through it in order to land on another portion of the arena, and raced out. By the time the cycle had ended, I had found that Moriarty had stolen my command codes and taken control of the Grid. The only chance I had was to get his attention on the lightcycle grid, where I found you."

As Tron spoke, he and Riker had left the I/O Tower, waving at Dumont as they passed by. "I was shocked to find that you were a User. Everyone had lost hope that the Users would come back."

Riker nodded. Moriarty must have created another program in his image and with his identity codes, but with improved learning capabilities. This wasn't the original Moriarty holodeck program, but an improved copy of it. "Tron, I have a friend coming in from the world of the Users. I need to be able to get to him as soon as possible."

"That's going to take a lot of risk," Tron replied, "Whether he's rezzing in from the Internet or from Flynn's portal, he's still going to appear in Moriarty's territory. The Grid is facing civil war."

"It's a risk we're going to have to take. If you want Moriarty off of the Grid, we need to get to my friend."

Tron handed a light baton to Riker. "Then the only way we can get in there quickly and quietly is by lightcycle."

The two ran forward and leapt into the air, the bikes rezzing around them, and soon they had left the I/O tower far behind.

In Riker's ear, Tron's voice sounded. "We may end up being followed by tanks or other lightcycles. If that becomes the case, switch on your light ribbon."

"How quickly can we do this, and what are the chances of doing so without detection?"

"Very quickly. Without detection... well, the chances are minimal. Who's your friend?"

"His name is Data. My commanding officer wants him to join us and help if he can."

"If you don't mind my asking, what is your world like now? Sam had told me about his time... he told me that the year in his world was 2013."

"At least three hundred years has passed since then. Our world looks a lot like yours, and our tools are similar. There are different limitations. I can't explain it very well."

"That's all I needed to know."

The lightcycles raced out and into what appeared to be a sort of freeway, where there were other vehicles moving at rapid speed. They appeared to be somewhat flat in appearance, but like all else that surrounded them, they bore bright patterns of light of various colors. Their speeds weren't any match for the lightcycles, though, which raced between them with ease.

"Enemy lightcycle right behind you, Riker!"

Riker turned his head slightly, and found a lightcycle behind him, its light patterns glowing a hot, fiery red. "This doesn't look good." His hand found the switch for the light ribbon, and instantly it began streaming out behind him, fluid and glowing in the dim light. Light cars swerved, avoiding the wall and smashing into other cars. Just when Riker thought he'd lost the pursuer, though, he saw it leaping upward and over his light ribbon, landing on top of another light car and closer to him.

"Tron, I think we're going to have to speed up."

"I'll speed up, you slow down," came the response. Riker obeyed, and he fell behind Tron, who'd triggered his light ribbon and raced forward. Then came the most amazing ground vehicle feat he'd seen. The program used one of the light cars as a ramp and jumped over Riker's projected path, the light ribbon forming an arch that he passed under quickly. The pursuer, who hadn't anticipated such a strike was reduced to pixels in less than a second.

"Follow me!" Tron turned suddenly, bringing his lightcycle into a tunnel on the right hand side of the freeway. Riker followed, and the two deactivated their light ribbons.

"Change in plan," Tron said, "We're going to take another way in. Taking this route will stop the Recognizers and light jets from finding us. Keep an eye out for tanks and other lightcycles, though."

The commander did so, still following the security program through the tunnel, which was lit from both sides by long, pale blue circuitry patterns. _The last time a human contacted this world was in 2013,_ Riker thought as he maneuvered his lightcycle around cars. _Over three hundred years, and yet Tron and Dumont both remember these Flynns as if they had just talked with them yesterday. Something is telling me that this world's time runs differently than it does on Earth._

Eventually, they emerged from the tunnel and back into the exposed night. As they rode, Riker checked for any aerial pursuers while Tron continued monitoring the ground-level surroundings. There were fewer cars, and Riker could tell that they were heading toward one of the larger buildings of the city. "What is that building?"

"A former nightclub," Tron replied. "We still call the building by the name of that club. 'End of Line.' It was Flynn's idea of a joke about our first meeting. At the time, we were fighting an overgrown Master Control Program, whose every sentence seemed to end with that phrase. Moriarty chose it as his base of operations because it overlooks the entire city. He can even see into the Outlands if he chose. I don't think he pays attention to those reaches, though."

"What would be in the Outlands?"

"Nothing," Tron replied with a smile. "That is, usually nothing. Flynn had a hideout that could view the city. In addition, ISO's were discovered out there."

"ISO's?"

From the corner of his eye, Riker could see Tron's head angle toward him in surprise. "Isomorphic Algorithms. Flynn was saying that when he brought them into his world, that they'd be capable of changing everything you knew."

"I don't think his plan succeeded," Riker replied, still questioning the existence of the ISO's.

"Their 'digital DNA,' as Flynn liked to call it, was said to be unique, and was also said to be capable of changing medicine in your world. Were there any significant changes back then?"

Riker's mind suddenly picked up a small fact from his history lessons in the Academy. "The Eugenics Wars and World War III. Soldiers were genetically modified to be more powerful, but it resulted in war instead. But that happened in the 1980's!"

Even as he said it, the Starfleet officer realized the error of his words. The Eugenics Wars had resulted in genetic experimentation and human augmentation, of course, but the 1980's had been a time when the genetic experimenation began. The war had lasted into the twenty-first century. He quickly corrected himself. "Tron, your ISO's may have been the cause for genetic improvement that led to war. Perhaps that was not what Flynn was anticipating."

"I wouldn't know. I have never been off the Grid before. Start decelerating. We're almost there."

They stopped at the base of the building, where a large elevator stood waiting. Next to the doors were two guards, who were already striding forward with energy staffs in their hands.

"Let me handle this," Tron said, reaching behind his head and grabbing his discs.

"Identify yourselves," a guard said when he had reached hearing distance.

"We need to use the elevator. You must let us pass," Tron said calmly, his hands splitting his discs apart behind his back.

"You are not authorized for entry. Identify yourself, program."

The two identity discs activated, and were simultaneously thrown at the guards, whose cries were muffled by the sound of deresolution. Tron caught the discs when they returned and replaced them to their place on his back. "Follow me."


	7. Sherlock

7. Sherlock

Geordi looked at the emitter with distrust. He'd been around plenty of transporter systems, but this one was the most unusual and most disturbing of all. Worse yet, it had succeeded in taking a friend and superior officer into an unknown world, and was being prepared to take yet another friend to the same place.

"Data, I don't like this thing. Can't you just reroute some subroutines and send your own programming in?"

The android looked at him with eyes that were filled with childlike curiosity – not that Geordi could see the curiosity. All he could see of Data were the same steady temperatures and light signatures that separated the machine from humans and aliens whose signatures were laced with biological patterns and heat fluctuations. "That is a possibility," his friend intoned in that smooth voice, "but the outdated systems of the emitter will not allow that much data to be compressed in that way. It can only transfer matter to information. If I were to attempt to simply transfer my functions into the computer, it may overload the system."

The engineer didn't argue. He'd known Data long enough not to question that type of judgment. Instead, he leveled the emitter. "I still don't like this. Good luck." With that, he activated the beam and watched as it systematically broke the android down into bits and fed them back through and into its computer system. In less than five seconds, the chair Data had been sitting in went from occupied to _acapella_.

Tron hadn't lied about the view. It finally made sense to Riker why the city was called the Grid. The freeways carved perfect line segments amid the buildings, making perfect right angles when a turn was required, and glowing with the energy present in everything he could see. The buildings seemed, from this height, to flatten out and somehow resemble a silicon data chip. The only other building that rose up from amid the city was the I/O Tower.

Moriarty's office held all of the trappings that Riker would have expected. The Grid's equivalent of tea brewed slowly on a hot plate, while various devices hung suspended in various states of dissection over tables. Two identity discs floated above the desk, no doubt the most recent fascination for the doctor.

Riker turned away from the invisible pane of solid energy and back to where Tron stood near the pad was. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to understand fully what Tron could say about resolution, Riker contented himself to simply wait for Data's arrival.

"I won't be able to deactivate Moriarty," Tron said suddenly, pulling Riker out of his dazed state of mind. "Not alone. The Master Control Program was weak compared to CLU, and CLU succeeded in rectifying my system. It took him cycles to take over the Grid… Moriarty came into control faster than a lightcycle on the game grid."

Riker stared at the pad in silence. Somehow, he knew that anything he could say to the program would not be reassuring enough. He tried to imagine what it was like to have a purpose that could not be fulfilled; he tried to imagine what it was like to know that he could only fail where he was designed to prevail.

"Moriarty had managed to take over the ship when he was created," he replied. "We work on a ship so massive that I doubt even Kevin Flynn could foresee its creation, or its mission. We travel between worlds as a humanitarian organization. If the ship were to fail in that space between planets, we would all be derezzed." The word came to his lips with some difficulty. "At the height of his power, he sought to escape a small portion of the ship and join us, but we didn't know how that could be possible. So we tricked him and placed him in a grid of his own, which simulated the world he wanted to find himself in."

He turned to Tron, who stared back with a patient expression. "This is not the Moriarty who took hold of the _Enterprise._ This Moriarty must be a copy, like CLU was. Powerful, yes, but not infallible."

Just as he finished speaking, a shimmering of light materialized over the pad. In the dim yellow light, Riker felt glad to be accompanied by yet another with bright blue circuitry, and was more than relieved to see the Starfleet chevron insignia on the chest of the newcomer. Data's chrome yellow face seemed even more pallid in the fiery light cast by the rest of the building, but his eyes still burned with the intensity that comes from insatiable curiosity.

"It is nice to see you, again Data!" Riker was only met by a questioning gaze before he realized that the android did not recognize the other program.

"I am sorry, but I believe we have not been introduced," Data said to Tron before extending a hand – rather awkwardly – in human fashion. "I am Lieutenant Commander Data, of the USS _Enterprise._"

"Tron," replied the security program. "Riker seems to have faith in you, which is enough for me."

The android turned to his commanding officer next. "A duplicate of my programming has been saved on the _Enterprise_ computers, along with schematics and statistics regarding my construction, in case of emergency. The emitter is not capable of harnessing my raw programming alone, and required a physical presence to transfer onto the Grid."

"That is because, my dear Sherlock Holmes," stated a smooth voice from behind Riker and Tron, "I have requested that only a physical presence be transferred. After all, it would be rather difficult for our friend the captain to deceive me like he did my counterpart when his constituents are trapped in the same realm as I."

The three turned to see that a wall panel had slid upward as a door to expose a sinister program, indeed. A cloak wrapped around the slim figure that was the Doctor Moriarty, the fiery yellow lines of circuitry glowing and accenting the program's features.

"And now I have more than I had ever requested of the Federation."


End file.
